Smatterings of Things
by kiwismakemehappy
Summary: A series of one shots revolving around the Fowl siblings.
1. The Best Policy

**A/N: So, I've had this one in my head for about a week. Didn't feel like writing up my US History essay over the Bay of Pigs, hence this little drabble. It's very, very unbetaed, so I'm sure the mistakes are as copious as frolicking rabbits. I think that's all… enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Nope. I still don't own the Artemis Fowl series. Aren't you shocked? **

Though the twins were older, wiser, and even more energetic, (especially in the case of one Beckett Fowl,) to Artemis, the scene before him seemed strangely reminiscent of one three years earlier. The boys sat in exactly the same way, with the same curious tilt to their heads as when the genius had attempted to teach them French restaurant etiquette. However, this time, it was Beckett that brought up the topic of conversation.

"Artemis," he began, "where do babies come from?"

His raven brows went shooting into his hairline. Artemis coughed lightly to gain a moment to collect his thoughts. What to say? He was probably the wrong person to explain to his young brothers the most carnal facts of life. On the other hand, he was even younger than them when he researched it for himself, so he knew from experience: better to hear it from a concerned member of the family than someone at their private grade school.

It also seemed as though it was time to instate his new policy of complete honesty. After all the trouble his webs of lies and half-truths had caused on previous escapades, Artemis had finally decided that enough was enough. Those new relationships with the people he cared about, as beautiful as dewy spider's silk and just as fragile, were worth preserving. And so, he decided, from this day forth, honesty would be his policy.

Thus reasoning, the young Fowl heir proceeded to explain to the even younger Fowl heirs the sordid details of the process of baby making. He tried to keep it fairly simple, and once finished, was rather impressed with his completion of fraternal duties. That is, until Beckett's tiny hand flew into the air.

"Ah, yes? You have another question?"

Beckett's face was filled with the serious contemplation of a six-year-old as he asked, "Is that the only way to make a baby?" Artemis, curious where this tangent of thought was headed and not wanting to get into the complicated science of test tube infants and cloning, nodded in affirmation.

"So… Tommy's mommy and daddy had a 'sex' to make his new baby sister?" Artemis nodded again. An almost painful look of deep thought settled upon his young protégée. Then the large, innocent eyes became wide as realization struck.

"Does that mean Mommy and Daddy had 'sex' to make us?" Once more, Artemis nodded his head and took an elegant swig of his bottled Irish Spring water resting on the mahogany end table.

"Hm… Have _you_ ever had the 'sex' Artemis?"

Coughing up some of his drink, the Irish genius contemplated how to reply to the perfectly innocent inquiry. He thought of the warm, beautiful body he left curled up under his blankets that morning, and he thought about the loving smile and heartfelt greeting he was expecting when he got home. Honesty was the best policy, honesty was the best policy, honesty was the best policy…

"Well Beckett, I bet you can answer that question yourself. Do I have a baby?"

"No…oh! I see now…" Beckett exclaimed. Myles, however, was quick to spot the holes in this logic, and looked at his older brother quizzically. Artemis shook his head ever-so-slightly and put a long finger up to his lips in a universal sign of "sh." He winked, and Myles, ecstatic to share a secret with his favorite older brother, nodded happily.

Within the next five minutes, the twins became bored and tumbled away to cause some sort of havoc elsewhere in the mansion. As soon as they left the room, Artemis let out a long-suffering sigh. What about his new policy of candor? _"Oh well_," he though. "_Old habits die hard."_


	2. Snuggling

A/N: I've been bitten by a rabid plot bunny for these tooth-rotting oneshots involving the Fowl boys, so you can probably expect a few more of these.

Disclaimer: If I said I owned anything relating to Artemis Fowl, I'd be lying, and we all know where liars go…

-----------------------------

"Pulling another all-nighter Artemis?" inquired Butler, poking his head into the young genius's room.

"Unfortunately. This system isn't going to solve itself," he replied, continuing to type away at his laptop. Artemis was on his second night without sleep, and Butler was beginning to worry.

"Don't you think you'll be able to function better with some rest?" the body guard cajoled.

"I have a theory about sleep deprivation. The more tired one is, the greater the connection between the right and left side of the brain. And as you know, the activation of the right side of the brain often gives one a whole new perspective, something desperately needed in most problem solving situations." Though his voice was steady, Butler didn't miss the way Artemis blinked a little harder than normal to clear his eyes.

"Whatever you say. Good night Artemis." The massive man closed the door behind him. Though Artemis was slightly surprised at the ease with which Butler conceded defeat, he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind and refocused on the problem. Not five minutes later, he heard the door creak open once more. However, instead of the heavy, graceful steps of his manservant, he heard the hurried, careless pad of four small feet.

"We couldn't sleep," intoned Myles in an almost imperceptible lisp.

"What'cha doin'?" inquired Becket, inching ever closer to the bright screen of the computer.

Artemis took a long breath through his nose. "If you're going to stay here, then you have to be quiet." He gazed at his brothers sternly and waited for it to sink in. The nodded in unison, heads bobbing up and down; the young man couldn't help being endeared to the angelic gesture. He got up stiffly, pulled the covers away from his bed, and gestured for the toddlers to crawl in. The each let out a little squeal of childish glee and vaulted onto the bouncy piece of furniture.

Artemis returned to his computer, but was promptly distracted by stifled giggling and the sound of his bed springs creaking. He glared at his younger siblings, who immediately became totally immobile. He returned to his equation, but it wasn't long before little voices piped up in protest.

"We're cold!"

"Yeah! Take a break and snuggle with us."

He shot a calculating look at the boys. They were only going to keep making noise until he gave in or sent them away, and he already knew he wasn't capable of the latter. And the bed looked so comfortable…

No. He was committed to finishing his system as soon as possible.

"Please?" they implored together. Between their pleading tone and large, innocent eyes Artemis never stood a chance. As soon as the boys fell asleep he would return to his work…

"Oh, alright. Move over," he commanded. The twins happily obliged and he was soon curled up in between the two chubby bundles of flesh. Myles sighed contentedly while Becket shoved his face against Artemis's arm, breathing sticky puffs of breath against his skin. The boys were almost instantly asleep, going from rambunctious play to complete unconsciousness as only small children can. The genius sighed. Now how to get away from the two boys without waking them up. He moved a few limbs experimentally, only to have Becket let out a strangled grumble of protest. "Perfect," he groused, accidentally letting out a yawn.

'While I figure this out, I might as well relax a bit…' he thought, reposing into one of his fluffy, designer pillows.

Twenty minutes later, Butler poked his head into Artemis's room. This time, he was met with a sight that brought a slow grin to his face. His young charge was completely asleep and snoring lightly between his baby brothers.

He closed the door, chuckling lightly to himself. "It works every time…"


	3. Nostalgia

_A/N: This has nothing to do with the Fowl siblings, but I didn't want to post it by itself, so I shoved it in here. Nothing much to say- I know this theme is overdone, but I wanted to try my hand at it._

_Just so you know, I'm not an A/H shipper. I don't mind it, but between the specie and age difference, there's just not much hope that they could be anything more than friends. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that you can interpret this how you want, but I meant it as one friend cheering up another. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own the copyright for the Artemis Fowl series. _

The party was so lavish it bordered on tackiness, but Holly was certain that was not the reason behind the dejected air Artemis had projected all evening. The no-longer-so-young genius was sprawled on a wicker chair perched next to his mansion's outdoor pool. To the causal observer it seemed as though he was gazing at the garish flowers and candles floating around in the water, but Holly knew better- his mind was a million miles away.

The detective treaded louder against the ground to alert him of her presence. The dark haired man gave her a lazy salute without turning to face her, and suddenly Holly realized that he was drunk.

"Enjoying the party Artemis?" she asked cautiously.

"The music is too loud, the guests, current company excluded, aren't worth the extensive amounts of entrees they are consuming, and my house will smell like the Lilac incense Juliet decided to include in the decorating theme for months," he replied scathingly.

"Oh come on! There must be something you like?" the elf cajoled.

"Yes, of course. The booze are delightful," he murmured, before taking a swig of something slightly pink and miniature umbrella festooned.

In no time at all Holly whisked the glass from his hand and placed it out of his reach.

"Come now Ms. Short! I'm not driving anywhere tonight, and the party has proceeded perfectly well thus far without its host. One more drink won't hurt," he argued, but even as he spoke his eyes couldn't completely focus on the former Captain. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I beg to differ. You're inebriated enough as it is, and considering your knowledge of fairy dealings, you certainly can't get drunk enough to tell everything you know about us."

Artemis closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose. "I've figured out a fundamental secret of the universe," he said offhandedly. Holly looked at him in surprise; a statement like that from Artemis usually proceeded some sort of spectacular insight. "It's the reason that humans have a natural inclination towards evil: we're afraid to die."

Of all the things Holly expected her friend to say, this was not one of them. "Excuse me?" She asked.

"It's true- no one wants to perish. We suffer from greed, gluttony, and pride, all to distract us from the fact that we grow closer to our deaths with ever passing moment." He sighed deeply. "Our lives are so short, Holly. We all want to make a mark. We want assurance that our life meant something in the grand scheme of things."

Suddenly, Holly understood the Irish man's foul mood. "Artemis, are you depressed about turning thirty?" She demanded.

He ignored her, choosing instead to continue on his own tangent. "How else do you explain the difference in morality between your kind and mine? Your lives are long enough that you aren't forced to do anything drastic to be remembered."

"I don't know mudman; maybe the fact that we're just naturally more compassionate beings?" Holly teased, but it was as though Artemis didn't hear.

"I can offer the world a few patens, a few new ideas, and maybe some of my money will go to charity after I'm gone, but a hundred years from now…" he paused and stared at the pool again. They stood silently for a handful of heartbeats before Holly spoke.

"You keep trying to convince us all of how smart you are, but I'm really beginning to wonder," she mused. She waited until he was looking at her before she continued. "This, genius, is your mark on history." Her index finger hovered above her pale blue eye. "Whether I like it or not, even time I look in the mirror for the next few millennia I have to remember you. Even time I see this I remember a jerk and a hero, a man who put me in peril more times then I can count but always did his best to get me out again. And sometimes we enjoy our time together, and sometimes I want to kill you, but I could never, not in a million years, forget you. You're luckier than most people Artemis- you are one of the few humans recorded in our history, and as you know, we never forget anyone important."

Artemis smiled ever-so-slightly. "Well, I _am_ pretty spectacular," he replied, and then chuckled in a trashed manner. Holly rolled her eyes, and watched his eyes flutter shut, and his breathing become more even. When she was sure he was asleep, she ruffled his hair and said, "yeah, I suppose you are."

She extracted a small photo album from her moon belt (she bought it in Atlantis, a tourist trinket made to look like the fairy bible,) and placed it in his lap. It mostly contained stills from haphazard video feed of their adventures together. If she was being honest with herself, Holly would have to admit that she didn't want to be forgotten either. "Happy birthday Artemis," she whispered before taking off into the night.


	4. Red Bull

_A/N: Um, I'm tired? My computer crashed today and as I was painstakingly trying to reload my lost files, I found this little (emphasis on little,) number. I don't remember writing it, but I though it was vaguely funny, (in a sleep deprived sort of way.) So… enjoy?_

_Disclaimer: Roses are red, blue ends with a vowel, and as y'all know, I don't own Arty Fowl._

"I'm going to sue," Artemis growled, well beyond livid. He slammed the door of the twin's bedroom behind him, cutting off the sound of expensive things being broken.

"Whatever is the matter dear?" questioned :Angeline Fowl. Rarely had she witnessed her eldest son so upset. "And who exactly are you going to sue?"

"Beckett, your darling spawn, has discovered energy drinks," he glowered. "And as for who I'm suing, it's currently between the whole Redbull corporation and that little Murdoc boy who introduced it to him."


	5. Finger Paint

_A/N: This one is dedicated to Musafreen __for reminding me that I should probably update this fic at some point! __Oh, and if anyone has some Fowl situations they want me to do I'm sort of taking requests—I had quite a few chapters of various fanfics on my old computer, but it crashed early this year, and I have neither the memory nor the patience to recreate them._

_Disclaimer: Since nobody liked the poem, I suppose I'll have to go back to the boring old disclaimer: I still don't own the Artemis Fowl franchise.:) _

Artemis had a problem. Namely, his meeting was in an hour, it was a conference with the Board of Directors as the new CEO of Fowl Energy Inc., and he needed his tuxedo jacket. The only tuxedo jacket that hadn't been obliterated in one Fairy escapade or another. The jacket that was currently crumpled up at the bottom of the twin's closet. The one that was liberally coated with finger paint.

Artemis Fowl was not one to yell, but he was willing to make an exception. "BECKETT! MYLES! GET UP HERE IMMEDIATELY!" He hollered, and then waited patiently for the twins to run upstairs. He heard the four-year-olds' determined feet running closer to their room and their voices carrying through the door.

"Beckett, do you think he found out about the…"

"Shhh! No! Prolly he just wants to say goodbye before he leaves!"

The footsteps stopped and the door creaked open. If Artemis wasn't so annoyed, he would find the hesitant little faces peeking around the door with guilty expressions adorable.

"Beckett. Myles," he began with frightening calm. The twins gulped. "I have to leave for my conference soon. In order to make a good impression on the board I need to look presentable. In order to look presentable, I need my tuxedo jacket." The young Fowl heirs looked at each other with equal amounts of trepidation. "What, pray tell, do you expect me to do about _this_?" He growled, brandishing the soiled suit coat.

"Well, you see, Arty, there's a perfectly good explanation for—"

"We were playing 'James Bond verses Hitler,' and we needed an outfit—"

"And naturally the only appropriate clothing would be a tuxedo—"

"But we didn't have one—"

"So we borrowed yours—"

"But then we were really hungry, so we asked Mommy for a snack—"

"But she told us to put your suit away first—"

"And we were going to—"

"But Beckett found the paints in your closet,-"

"It looked like fun!"

"We didn't realize it would be so messy," Myles concluded with a sigh, gesturing to the ruined tuxedo coat.

Artemis surveyed the two boys with a stern outward expression and inwardly mused over the hilarity of their twisted story. It was like a messed up version of that children's book, the one about the mouse and the cookies. Luckily for the twins, the Fowl patriarch chose that moment to make an appearance.

"Artemis, are you almost—oh. What happened to your suit?" He asked, caught off-guard by the symphony of colors adorning the previously immaculate garment. Artemis said nothing, only gestured to the culprits. "Ah, I see," he said, and took the coat from his son. "Well, I suppose if all else fails you can just wear a sports jacket. Your mother and I will dress down too, so you won't look out of place."

The young genius reviewed his options, and ascertained that his parent's suggestion was the best course of action. "Alright. Thank you father," he said.

"Boys, what do you say to your brother?"

"Sorry Artemis," they chimed in unison.

Against his will, Artemis found himself forgiving them. Who needs mesmerizing fairy magic when you've got cherubic faces like that?


	6. ABCs

_A/N: College has started, I have a new job that sucks away 30+ hours a week, and I've got about one zillion other things that kill my time. So be warned, I'll probably get even worse about updating, (if that's humanly possible. :D) _

_I'm sorry if you don't like the ABC format. I'm still low on ideas. (Sorry EmTea- I would totally use your suggestion, except that I've never been to Starbucks before.) Eh-hem. So, without further ado…_

_Disclaimer: If I owned the Artemis Fowl series, I would have made Holly look less busty/creepy in the graphic novel. I was going to order it off Amazon until I saw her and almost gagged. _

ABC

Antsy

Artemis had always enjoyed long trips around the world… but now that he had rambunctious twin brothers the jet couldn't land soon enough.

Badinage

Even in their teens, Myles and Beckett's favorite playful insult was still "simpleton."

Clever

Whenever the boys disarmed the custom-made child locks guarding the pantry, Artemis had to admit that they were smarter than he gave them credit for.

Drain

After a full day of watching his siblings, Artemis was completely and undeniably exhausted.

Experiments

"Well, Artemis, I was trying to determine the reactive propensity of Rubidium… obviously I was quite successful."

Favorite

"Which of us do you like best?" The twins demanded in unison.

Get-up

Artemis took one look at his tin-foil clad brothers and the mess of boxes and kitchen supplies surrounding them before deciding that he didn't even want to know.

Helium

"Can you two even afford to lose more brain cells?" Artemis teased as his brothers sucked the air out of their birthday balloons.

Innocent

Sometimes Artemis wonders if he was ever than innocent…

Justify

"I'm sorry I used your lab Myles, but I _really_ wanted some Mac 'n Cheese!"

Keep

"Doesn't the hospital have some sort of return policy on children?" Artemis grumbled.

Lies

"Don't worry guys, everything will be just fine."

Mother

Mrs. Fowl loved all of her boys equally, but she had to admit how much more she loved being called "mommy" than "mother."

Nice

"Hey Beckett, I think Arty is nicer than he lets on."

Optometrist

Myles was the first Fowl in generations to need glasses.

Picnic

"Yup, I packed a jar of peanut butter, some treacle, a thermos of coffee, two Crunch bars, six hotdogs, and _Paradise Lost_."

Quiet

When the house got totally quiet, Artemis Fowl Sr. knew the twins with either asleep or up to something especially mischievous.

Rational

Although Artemis knew he was quite the besotted sibling, he was still the only member of his family who could rationally deal the twins—his parents were complete pushovers.

Story

Whenever Beckett and Myles clamored for a bedtime story, it was always the same one: "Tell us about the genius Apollo and his adventures with the Willow and the other fairies!"

Truth

When the twins were outraged at their older brother's criticism, Artemis only shrugged and said, "the truth hurts."

Unimportant

Artemis looked at the mess, the broken lab equipment, and the matching surly expressions, and only felt relief that his brothers were safe and unscathed.

Vexed

"No, you may NOT use my personal laptop to play Mathblasters!"

Windows

Deciding it was pointless to lock the windows, the Fowl parents simply installed hedges underneath to break Beckett's fall.

X-men

"What do you mean I can't learn how to fly?"

Years

Artemis remembered hating being told by cheek-pinching adults how quickly he grew up, but that didn't stop him from marveling at how quickly the twins' childhood passed.

Zoo

Between the twins, the horses, Myles rabbits, and Beckett's dog, the manor seemed more zoo-like by the day.


	7. Fun and Games

"Checkmate," Myles said smugly as he moved his rook into its final resting place. The ten year old looked at his older brother and grinned. "Admit it Artemis, you've been beaten! Outwitted and otherwise annihilated!"

Artemis took a long moment to survey the game board before emitting a little sigh of defeat. "You're right, Myles. You've beaten me. Congratulations," he replied.

"That's right! Bask in your defeat! You may have won in Scrabble, Boggle, Poker, Backgammon, and Battleship, but I am KING of the world's greatest strategy game! Ha!"

"I suppose so," Artemis agreed with a nod. "I'm going to return to my study and wallow in my misery for a bit. I'll see you boys at dinner." The genius left, and Myles continued to gloat.

Beckett, who had watched the match in bored silence, thought Artemis was really the winner. After being pestered by Myles all day to play games, the obvious strategy was to lose on purpose.

Sometimes the best offense was a hasty retreat, after all.


	8. Cooking Hazards

_A/N: There's a scene in one of the books where Artemis makes Mulch an awful sandwich, which is what inspired this. I like the idea of Artemis being so gifted, yet struggling with cooking: having little brothers around to do some critical commentary just makes everything more fun! Oh, and for those of you who've never had it, Crème Brule is a really delicious custard that has a thin layer of sugar covering it. To melt the sugar you need a blowtorch, and I guess it's really difficult to turn the sugar into a thin shell without burning it._

_Disclaimer: I only own the shameless fluff that Eoin Colfer would never succumb to including in the series. _

"I'll be done in a minute!" Artemis said from the kitchen, his voice only slightly raised. The twins gave each other matching dubious looks. Though at ten years old their intellects and personalities were vastly different, the boys retained their uncanny ability to communicate nonverbally. Without a word they agreed to check up on their older brother.

They opened the door to a war zone: the floor was sticky and covered with all manner of vaguely foodish looking material. Brownish liquid pooled on the countertop and dripped lazily to the tile floor. The various cooking utensils strewn about the stone countertops were covered with a strange paste. And in the middle of it all stood Artemis, flustered-looking and holding something stiff, burnt, and most probably inedible. The twins grimaced.

"Unbelievable. Artemis Fowl, inventor extraordinaire, child genius, proverbial Vetruvian man in all things literary, musical, and scientific, can't handle making lunch for his younger brothers?" Myles said with a hint of irony.

Artemis let out a disgruntled noise at his siblings' presence. He looked around at the mess in the kitchen in a contemplative manner.

"What was this all originally supposed to be?" asked Myles, eying the offending substances with a certain amount of wariness.

"Beef Tar Tar, a brochette salad, twice-grilled asparagus, and," Artemis hefted the offensive black mass in his hands, "a German chocolate mousse."

"Um, Arty? Isn't mousse supposed to be, you know, soft and fluffy?" quipped Beckett, obviously getting joy out of his brother's mess.

"In theory," Artemis replied, his lips twitching into the hint of a frustrated frown. "To be honest, I'm not precisely sure where I went wrong."

"Maybe you should have started out smaller. All of those dishes sound really complicated and fancy," Beckett suggested, trying to think if he even knew what Beef Tar Tar was supposed to look like. He walked over to the Fowl's extensive pantry and extracted two boxes of instant macaroni and cheese. "Do you think you can handle this?" he asked, and handed them to his elder brother.

Artemis looked scandalized. "Are you sure this is alright? I mean, I've got time. I can try again. Surely you want something more refined?..."

"We're not picky, just hungry. We want something to eat," said Beckett.

"Preferably something that can't pass for roofing material," added Myles. The twins knew their lunch would most likely still look like a war zone, but at least it would be fit for human consumption

Artemis offered his best brotherly smile. "Well alright then! It will be done in ten minutes," he told them. "But next time I promise to make you both Crème Brule."

The boys considered their brother's current mess and mentally factored in a blow torch. They could only shudder.


	9. Sprint

Artemis stood alone and silent, considering the power of adrenaline. By all means, he was not a physically strong person. He did not pump iron. He was a genius—his time was better spent concocting plans or unraveling unsolvable problems. He _hired_ people to handle the grunt work.

And yet Artemis just hauled his young brothers up two flights of stairs and through a massive department store in less than ninety seconds, all because they had turned to him in unison and said, "we've got to go _now_."

It was amazing what unadulterated panic will do for a person's muscles.

A/N: Finally! An update! Although it's a widdle one—exactly one hundred words.


End file.
